Congrats, you have three wishes
by SarcasticFanatic
Summary: What th-How..Snape you are dead." "Excellent deduction, no wonder Aurors are rushing in to secure you for their team." "But..how are you.." "I doubt your tiny echo of a brain will be able to comprehend it, but I'm here to help your pitiful love life."


Congrats, you have three wishes!

"Snape? What are you doing here?" " What does it look like I'm doing you moronic twat? As dim as ever I see." "But, you're dead" " Full marks for stating the obvious Potter." " Why are you here?" "It should be obvious even to your puny brain that I'm here as a ghost to help you" Snape gagged "make Evans fall in love with you."

Prologue

Severus Snape walked fast towards his house. It was late and it was dangerous to be out too long. He had a meeting anyways. A meeting that would change his life. He walked keeping his head low and his hood up.

His cloak swirled behind him, giving him a mysterious appearance that would normally be the cause of many girls sighing. But Severus Snape wasn't exactly what a girl might call eye candy.

He reached his house. He looked at it in distaste. He was poor and his house was testimony to that statement. His mother had died and left him alone. His father, well let's just say he was better off in an orphanage.

He looked at the rundown house, with its broken windows and ugly settings. He gazed at the walls sprayed by the locals to read "Loser".

He hated muggles. Always had, except he reminded himself sullenly…except one. But, she wasn't exactly talking to him was she? He looked over the hill, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. That was where he goes every evening. He is her secret guardian, never to show his face. To forever remain in the shadows. She has reached her house alright. He worries because times are dark, and worse he is one of the few who knows it.

He enters.

"Hello Snape, how are you?" came a sickeningly familiar voice. He had heard that voice only once before, but that occasion had been replayed several times in his nightmares. He had the voice memorized. He turned slowly.

Lord Voldemort stood before him.

Snape knelt, his face bowed. He respected this wizard and feared him, like he had feared no other. But not feeling fear– Snape felt – in front of him was like not being awed by Albus Dumbledore. Utterly impossible.

"Yes, my Lord?" he asked his voice expressionless.

"Rise My dear Snape. I visited you before, do you remember?"

As if he could forget that particular visit.

"No, my Lord."

"Good, good" Voldemort replied absentmindedly.

Snape waited. He knew what Voldemort was doing. He was trying to make Snape squirm and blurt something out. He knew the techniques well.

His patience was rewarded; a minute later Voldemort said "I have decided that it's time to prove your dedication to the Death Eaters."

He paused. Snape waited with abated breath. This was his moment of glory.

"Yes, milord?"

"I am having a slight problem with a certain muggle. She can be a problem."

Snape waited.

"Word has it that she is going to be the Head Girl when school starts. Well, we can't have that can we? Just imagine a filthy mudblood a Head Girl? We can't have filthy blood tainting ours." The red eyed man said decisively. Snape's shoulders sank. His heart fell in his stomach. He knew now who Voldemort meant.

Lily Evans.

Voldemort confirmed Snape's assumptions by repeating them in his unbending tone of voice.

Snape's eyes filled with an emotion that some might call determined.

"No." He said in an equally expressionless voice.

Voldemort faltered. His eyes widened in outrage, his lips curled.

He looked the Slytherin with outrage mixed with amusement. "What did you say?" He asked din the most chilling voice Snape had heard.

The hair at the back of is neck stood, but he stood strong. The idea of Lily, His Lily lying on a floor, her expressive green eyes dull. Her body limp and on the floor, and that he was the one responsible.

He couldn't live with that. The ideas that he was the reason Lily would never smile, laugh, cry or be herself, be Lily was deplorable.

He looked at Voldemort.

Red met black.

"You heard me, I'll not do it." He said, he didn't know where he had got the courage form. Love made people better and worse. Maybe Albus Dumbledore was right, after all.

Voldemort's amusement vanished, Snape wasn't worth it. No one disagreed with Voldemort.

"Avada Kedavra" a voice rang out, as clear as it was merciless.

Snape was dead before he hit the floor. His eyes cold and lifeless. His body limp, his wand fell out of his hand as he fell with a thud.

He didn't even have time to scream, because Times were dark, and he had died preserving the only thing pure.


End file.
